A Black Disgrace
by E. A. Fleming
Summary: Deathly Hallows: How many lives would be saved and events altered if Ron hadn't returned that night and a young man named Michael had saved Harry from the frozen pond instead? How would it change Hermione and Harry's lives? And just who is Michael Shanahan?
1. A Stranger in the Nick of Time

6/ 21/11 So yes, at the start of writing this... I still have only completed two chapters of my ATLA sequel fanfiction "Finding a Drop Among the Waves" . With the final movie coming out less than a month from now, and a new obsession with a certain actor from a recent comic book film (completely unrelated to the Potter films, but the basis for the character 'Lenan'.) I have created this Harry Potter fanfiction. I hope you like it! And I will return to "Finding a Drop Among the Waves"... really I will. I just have to get Michael out of my system.

Now, of course, I do not own anything in this story except for Michael and Hailey. Even after rereading the book, I'm not exactly sure how long Hermione and Harry were looking for the horcruxes without Ron, and I'm certainly not sure how long a period it was between Ron's return and the battle of Hogwarts. So, I'm going to wing it, probably inadvertently extending it to build on Michael's character.

/. /. / Chapter 1: A Stranger in the Nick of Time

/. /. / NINETEEN YEARS AND FOUR MONTHS AGO; FOREST OF DEAN

Harry's shaking fingers lifted to touch the cut the locket's chain had made to his throat, too weak to do anything more. Beside him, his savior collapsed on the snowy bank, coughing and sputtering. He'd thought it was Hermione, being that she was the closest person nearby, but the coughs were deep, masculine. He lifted his head to see the blurry form struggle to his feet, the sword in one hand and the locket in the other.

"What the hell is wrong with yeh?" The voice had a lilting accent to it, making it clear he wasn't from England, but quite close by, likely Ireland. The outline of him was tall. "Out here in the middle of the freezing water, practically naked, and playin' with a sword, let me say it again, in the FREEZING WATER? Were yeh trying to kill yourself?" He tossed the sword to Harry's feet. "Because let me tell yeh, there are far easier ways to do it than that, my friend." Harry found his glasses and looked to his savior. His dark hair hung about his face in dripping tangles, partially obscuring his features. His clothing was dirty and in desperate need of mending. He stood over six feet tall, with a lean, strong build. "And what the hell is this thing that was trying to choke yeh?" He lifted the locket, examining it.

"Give that. . . back. . ." Harry spoke through chattering teeth. The strangers eyes turned to Harry; honey colored and untrusting.

"Hold your horses there, get your clothes on, get yourself situated. I want to make sure you're not going to do anything stupid like play sword in the hole." He gave a hoarse laugh. "Not to insinuate anything crude. I'll still be here when yeh put some pants on." Harry eyed him for a minute, then began pulling his clothing on as quickly as he could, nervous that with every sweater he put on, his eyes would emerge to find he was alone, the horcrux gone. Finally dressed, Harry held out his hand. The man gave him a look over, then handed the necklace over. "I've never seen a necklace try to kill someone before." The mans honey eyes showed clear concern. "There is a powerful curse in there and if yeh didn't create it, yeh shouldn't be carryin' that thing around." He glanced down at his hand. His palm was bleeding freely from a large laceration across it from the chain. "Yeh should destroy that thing." His eyes roamed up to Harry's scar and widened, a smile blooming on his mouth. "Hey, you're Ha-" Before the man could finish his sentence, Harry yanked out his wand.

"Stupefy!" He let out a small grunt before tipping backwards. Harry moved toward him, pulling the wand from the mans wet pocket. He looked by the hole in the water, finding a black canvas bag. He spent a moment considering the moral contemplations before deciding that finding out the mans origins and possible affiliations was more important. Rummaging through more heavily worn clothing, he found a small beaten up photo album buried in the bottom of the bag, just under the lining. The pages were flimsy, some bent in many places. It was obvious he looked at it often. Most of the photos were still, like regular muggle photos. Only a few, about 7 or so out of 24, were moving. The photos showed a beautiful young woman and a young man with a round face, dark blonde hair and honey colored eyes. In the photos, they appeared in their mid-teens. A still photo showed the two of them, his hand on her shoulder. She was smiling at the camera, but he was looking at her endearingly, his face full of love and admiration. There were several more candid photos of her, just doing daily activities; sitting by the window and reading, her face dotted with flour as she baked, sitting in the grass looking out into the distance. A candid still photo of the two of them revealed the most. The two were outside on a windswept hill. His hair was short, his face round and full. He wore black pants and a longsleeve grey sweater, just a tad too small for his pudgy frame, trimmed in blue with a blue and silver tie. The uniform of a Hogwarts student from Ravenclaw. He was looking over his shoulder, extending his hand to the girl. She was beaming at him, reaching for it. She wore a white button up shirt with a blue and green pleated skirt and black Mary Jane shoes, her hair pulled back into a French braid. He was a wizard, and she was a Catholic school student. A wizard and a muggle.

Harry looked to the unconscious stranger, tall and lean. From what he could see, his face was thin, bordering on gaunt, but they both had honey colored eyes. Either he had a brother, or the years had changed him drastically. The last photo was the most worn, faded in areas. It was a moving photo of the girl, looking about 15 or so, waving at the camera and blowing a kiss with a wink before laughing and covering her face with an embarrassed blush. Her eyes were such a dark brown, they almost appeared black, yet they radiated warmth and love.

Indecision tore at Harry. The photos, using mostly muggle technology, portrayed a kind young man deeply in love with a muggle girl. Yet because of current events, it was unclear of who could be trusted. He looked to the man, laying on the cold ground unconscious. He'd saved him from strangling and freezing. He'd willingly tossed over the sword, seemingly unknowing of how valuable it was. He'd handed over the locket, and his palm was still bleeding from yanking the chain from around Harry's neck. He looked at the teenage girls photo again, gingerly removing it from its plastic sheathing. On the back, the name Hailey was written, along with the date of birth and the date of death. She was not quite 16 when she died. A decision was made.

/. /. / THE TENT; FOREST OF DEAN

"Hermione!" Harry called out as he approached the tent, the man laying on a magicked stretcher floating behind Harry. "I've found two things."

"What is it?" Hermione's voice preceded her out of the tent. She stopped in her tracks seeing the stretcher. "Who on earth is that? And why have you brought him here?"

"He saved my life, Hermione. He found me strangling under the ice, trying to get this." He held up the sword of Gryffindor. "He pulled me out, and tossed the sword at my feet. He gave the locket back as soon as I was dressed. I don't think he knew what they were, or how important they are. I'm not saying to completely trust him, but maybe he's heard something. Some bit of news we don't have from the rest of the world. Look," he pulled the photo album from the mans canvas bag, which was slung over his shoulder, "I'm pretty sure that's him in the photos, but the girl was a muggle. Most of the pictures are unmoving."

"Where did he come from?" She stayed in the doorway, not taking the album, and not getting any closer to the man. "And wait... what were you doing in the ice... with no clothes on?" She suddenly moved forward, as if just realizing what he'd said, grabbing the sword. "How did you find this?" She ran her fingers over the hilt.

"I saw a silver doe, like a patronis. My instincts said-"

"It could have been a trap!"

"My instincts said to follow it, so I did." He spoke patiently as Hermione eyed him severely before continuing to inspect the sword. "It led me to a frozen pond. I could see the sword glinting in the moonlight. The only way I could get it was to go into the water. Once I did, the chain of the horcrux tightened around my neck. Before I knew it, someone grabbed me and pulled me to the surface. He got the sword too." Her interest seemed to peak a little and she approached the stretcher. She reached down, moving a wet lock of hair out of his face.

"He needs a bath." She commented dryly, looking at a his grime covered features. Though he was wet, only a good scrubbing with soap would remove the layer of dirt that coated his skin. "How did he find you?"

"He must have been nearby and heard the splashing."

"Let me see the album." Harry handed it over. Hermione flipped through it. "Catholic school girl..."

"There are dates on the back. She died seven years ago."

"She was a muggle..." She looked at the man on the stretcher. "You don't think he..."

"He seems trustworthy... and he looks too happy with her in all the photos."

"I don't know, Harry... maybe we should leave him here and move on tonight. It all seems too convenient. You see the sword, he rescues you and retrieves it, handing it over with no problem. Maybe he wants to find out where we are exactly."

"He had too many chances to kill me there. He could have let me drown in the water. He could have stabbed me with the sword while I was gagging on the shore. He could have used a killing curse while I was fumbling for my glasses. He might be able to help us in some way. We've got to try."

Hermione remained quiet, eyeing the man disdainfully before finally speaking. "Fine, but I want him blindfolded and secured to a chair. He's not exactly weak looking."

The two of them pulled him from the stretcher and carried him into the tent, Hermione bending beneath his weight. They sat him in a chair and Hermione magicked chains around his wrists, ankles and waist. She then tied a black cloth over his eyes, careful not to tie his long tangled dark hair into the knot of fabric. While standing behind him, she noticed he smelled of earth. She'd expected him to smell of stale body judging by the nature of his clothing and the greasiness of his messy hair. She took a step back and Harry performed the counter curse.

The man woke with a start, jerking in the chains around his wrists. His head moved as if he were trying to look around.

"Really? I already know who yeh are, Mr. Potter. Is a blindfold necessary?" His lilting voice was cocky and arrogant, but Hermione picked up on the slightest tone of panic, hidden deep within it.

"What's your name?" Harry asked.

"Lenan Hachas. Male. Just outside of Dublin. 26 years old. Yeh never did answer my question. Yeh know, the one I asked before yeh hit me with a rather unnecessary spell. Why were yeh playin' in the ice with a sword and a cursed necklace? For someone so important to the future of all wizard and muggle kind, it seems like a pretty stupid thing for yeh to be doin."

"How did you find Harry?" The side of his mouth curled up, as he looked in Hermione's direction.

"Now I don't know you, but yeh sound lovely. It's been a while since I've heard a woman's voice. It's like music. I found your famous friend while trekking through the woods. I saw a patronus run in front of me. I quickly followed it to see where it was going, but when I heard Mr. Potters approach, I hid. I heard the splash of him jumping in the water. I went to the water's edge and when he didn't come up, I jumped in after him."

"Do you work for You-know-who?"

"Aw, I was still hoping you were an intelligent bloke, Mr. Potter, even if yeh do play with sharp things in odd places. Of course I don't work for him. But then again, I'd say no even if I did to gain your trust. I mean, being so close to yeh, who would say 'yes, I'm a Deatheater' while chained to a chair, completely vulnerable."

"Did you kill the muggle girl in the photos?" Lenan turned toward Hermione. The cocky smile had fallen and his face turned stark white beneath the layer of dirt.

"You went through my things..." He shook his arms, the chains rattling. "Where is the album!" His voice cracked. There was panic in his movements, his tone of voice. "Let me up. Let me up! Where is the album!" He jerked around again. "Please! It's all I have left and it's so fragile."

"Were you the one that killed her?"

"Please! This is like torture! Let me up! Let me see that the pictures are undamaged!" He looked toward Harry. "Please, I'll answer anything you want. I'll tell you anything! You can obliviate tonight's events and ditch me in the woods for all I care. I'll do anything, just let me up and let me see the album. You have my wand. How much harm can I be?" His voice was pleading. Harry looked to Hermione, who shook her head no. He looked at Lenan, desperately struggling to rise. He pointed his wand.  
>"Relashio." The chains fell away and Lenan jumped up, ripping away the blindfold. His eyes were red and puffy. He looked around for a moment, disoriented by the light, before rushing toward his canvas bag in the corner. He fell to his knees, gingerly pulling the photo album out. He slowly went through the pages, stopping at the last photo. His finger slowly ran over the face as the beautiful young woman waved and blew a kiss. A pang of guilt shuddered through Hermione's stomach.<p>

"What happened?" She asked softly.

"I'm on your side, Mr. Potter. More than anything in this life, I want to destroy all those working for Him, all those responsible for the fear, suffering, and death of the ones around us. What little family I lay claim to is gone. Dead because of them. If yeh are going to fight them, I want to fight them with yeh." He stood, whipping around to Harry, his eyes red and swollen, his face pallid. He jabbed his free hand at Harry's chest, his features full of anger despite the tears. "But if you're going to play the suicide game, then you're useless. Do yeh have any clue how many people are waiting for yeh to return? Waiting for yeh to make a triumphant arrival with some grand plan to kill the son of a bitch? And what are yeh doing instead? Hiding out in the woods with your girlfriend," he threw the hand holding the album toward Hermione, his voice rising in volume, "messing around in the ice! What the bloody hell is wrong with yeh? I believed in yeh!" He clutched the album to his chest. "I actually thought yeh were going to be the grand hero they made yeh out to be. Instead I find this, an idiot with a strange taste in jewelry, and a nosy girl." He turned from Harry, sitting in the chair once more, the album in his lap, his head in his hands. "I can't believe this. All the naive dreams of grandeur... all for nothing. We are all going to die." His fingers delicately traced the cover of the album as he looked up at Harry, tears in his eyes once more. "And for what, Mr. Potter? Just so that bastard and his treacherous legion of blood thirsty monsters can feel powerful and important? I had so much faith in yeh... I thought yeh were going to be the one to save us all. What an idiot I was..." He looked down once more, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"You're wrong." Harry spoke softly, a little taken back by the sudden fragility of such a tall, imposing figure.

"Is that all yeh can say? Is that you're only defense?" He stood, moving to his bag and putting the album in it before lifting it up and putting it to his shoulder. His movements were slow, as if all his energy had been drained away in mere minutes. "I can't even say I'm disappointed... it's not a big enough word..." He moved to the tent flap, glancing at Harry over his shoulder. A bottomless sorrow filled his honey colored eyes. "At least I'll die fighting them. I'm not going to hide in the country side and off myself..." his eyes stayed on Harry, but he cocked his head toward Hermione, "or just wait for it to end like the two of yeh." He turned his head away from them, his hand on the flap, just about to step out.

"You have it all wrong, Lenan. I wasn't trying to kill myself. I jumped in to get the sword. The patronus you saw led me to it. The only way I could get the sword was to jump in the water. I didn't think to take the locket off. I'm not hiding in the woods, as you so aptly insist. I'm fighting harder than you can imagine." Harry worked to keep his voice calm, knowing the insults the newcomer had spewed were completely unfounded. "I'm not the blithering idiot you've built in your mind over the last thirty minutes."

Lenan responded, his back still turned to them. "No one has seen yeh for almost four months. I've heard people talking... some are starting to entertain the grim idea that you're dead already. He grows stronger every day... Yeh say you're fighting, but there's not a scratch on yeh aside from where the chain cut yeh thirty minutes ago." He turned toward Harry once more. "I don't want to call yeh a liar... but I gotta admit, I don't understand how yeh can possibly be fighting all the way out here where you're safe and sound." Harry glanced at Hermione. Her eyes widened and she shook her head no. He looked to where the sword and horcrux lay on the desk along the wall. He moved, picking them up before Hermione could say anything.

"You want to go after the death eaters, then I have a job for you." Lenan stared at him, his eyes still red, his grimy face still pale. He gave a sarcastic bark of a laugh.

"What, are yeh going to take me out back and stab me to death? Behead me? I didn't know yeh had it in yeh."

"No," he held up the locket, "you're going to help me destroy this."

"Harry, you can't! Dumbledore told you of the mission and you entrusted the two of us. No one else is supposed to know! Especially a complete stranger! This is ludicrous!"

"Professor Albus Dumbledore gave yeh a mission?" Lenan spoke softly, but neither of the two teenagers paid him any attention.

"You have to admit. It's gotten harder without Ron around. I have a feeling this is the right thing to do. It was my mission. I feel we need a third. I know we can trust him. I can just sense it." His eyes moved to Lenan, who was now looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione, confusion clear in his face. "The locket you pulled off me isn't just a piece of jewelry. It's cursed as you yourself pointed out."

"Harry, wait!"

"If you want to trust him, this is the best way."

"No, it's not." She grabbed her wand from Harry's pocket and stepped in front of him, pointing it at Lenan. "Show me your arms." He looked her in the eyes for the first time. Any trace of grin he'd given her while blindfolded was gone. There was bottomless sorrow in his honey colored eyes and his mouth was a thin line as he rolled up his sleeves, holding his arms out palm up. The right one was tattooed and Hermione stepped forward tentatively to examine it. A thin line of black ink formed a vine with delicate leaves of ivy spiraling around his arm, down to his wrist, ending on the back of his hand.

"Happy now?" He spoke bitterly, rolling his sleeves down. He looked to Harry once again, then to the locket. "What is it?"

"The locket is a Horcrux..."

"A what?" Lenan cocked his head forward, his face scrunching a bit in question.

"A Horcrux. It's one of many objects that contain a piece of he-who-must-not-be-named's soul. We are hunting them down and trying to destroy them. By destroying them, he is weakened and will not be able to return again after he is defeated." Lenan's face fell and his eyes shot to the sword.

"Wait... that's... that's the sword of Gryffindor..." He whispered. He moved toward it, his hand outstretched.

"Repelio!" Lenan stumbled back a few feet as if pushed away from the gleaming object. He shot Hermione a scathing look.

"The famous Harry Potter trusts me, but the nameless young witch doesn't. Who'd have guessed. Would yeh like to chain my wrists and ankles like a convict, yeh faithless little thing?" Her jaw tightened and he smirked. He looked to the cut on his palm, then to Harry's neck. "Why haven't yeh destroyed it yet?"

"We wanted to find out your motives first."

"Well, you know them now. How many are there? How many have yeh destroyed?"

"This is the first we've actually found, but two have been destroyed before. There are five more, including the locket."

"Well," Michael eyed the sword, "what are yeh waiting for? Stab his soul already!"

/. /. / POST SCRIPT AUTHOR'S NOTE:

P.S.A.N. : So as the date on top suggests, I started this in June and just now got around to posting it in September. After a lot of continuous writing, rewriting, and tweaking of his character for future ideas and scenes, I am completely in love with Michael 'Lenan Hachas' Shanahan. I really hope you guys love him too and feel he accurately fits in with the Potter Universe.


	2. A Confrontation with Tacky Jewelry

Of course, I do not own anything in this story except for Michael 'Lenan' Shanahan and Hailey. Even after rereading the book, I'm not exactly sure how long Hermione and Harry were looking for the horcruxes without Ron, and I'm certainly not sure how long a period it was between Ron's return and the battle of Hogwarts. So, I'm going to wing it, probably inadvertently extending it to build on Michael's character.

Some of Harry's dialog and the description of the location and horcrux in the very beginning of this chapter are copied right from 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows'. The story is an alternate to the original, therefore there will be miniscule amounts copied from the book.

/. /. / CHAPTER 2: A Confrontation With Tacky Jewelry

/. /. / NINETEEN YEARS AND FOUR MONTHS AGO; FOREST OF DEAN

Harry led the way out of the tent, using Lenan's wand to produce light. Lenan walked behind him and Hermione brought up the rear, her wand pointed at the newcomers back. After walking about ten minutes, Harry saw the place: a flat rock lying in the shadow of a large tree. "Here." He said without hesitation, brushing snow from the rock's surface. He pulled the Horcrux from his pocket; it twitched in his fingers and he laid it on the rock, eager to sever his connection to it. Lenan approached the rock as Harry held out the sword. "You retrieved the sword, you are the one to wield it." The stranger suddenly looked nervous, his eyes moving from the sword to Harry's face.

"I was in Ravenclaw... the sword is meant to aid a Gryffindor..."

"But you were the one able to get it from under the ice." Lenan hesitantly took the sword. "I'm going to open it and you stab it. Straightaway. Whatever's in there will put up a fight. The bit of Him in the Horcrux I destroyed tried to kill me."

"How are you going to open it?" Hermione's voice was soft. Fear became the ruling feeling in the air as the small object twitched and scratched on the stone. The trustworthiness of Lenan seemed secondary to the horrors the small locket would bestow upon them. Lenan held the sword loosely, his eyes on the locket.

"I'm going to ask it to open, using Parseltongue," said Harry. He looked at the serpentine S on the locket, inlaid with glittering green stones. The words of a snake seemed suddenly obvious.

"Tell me when..." Lenan's voice sounded firm, but he was breathing hard, preparing himself for the worst. His grip on the sword hilt tightened and he gave it a few little shakes up and down, testing the weight.

"On three." Harry's eyes lowered to the locket, concentrating on it hard. Hermione took a step back, her securely pointed wand at Lenan forgotten about as Harry's marked off the counts. She took a deep breath as the foreign sound slid from Harry's mouth. The golden door of the locket flew up and open with a click. Harry crouched down, holding the locket steady on the rock. "Stab." He spoke forcefully and Lenan lifted the sword high above his head, the point angled over the eyes of the locket. A voice hissed from within it.

_ "I see your heart, and it is mine."_

"Stab it! Harry shouted.

"_I see your dreams and I see your regrets."_

"Stab it Lenan!" The tall man seemed oblivious to Harry's presence as he starred down at the locket, the point of the sword still hanging over the slit-pupiled scarlet eyes.

_ "Unloved by an unready mother . . . unknown by a murderous father, following in his footsteps . . . the only love you will have you killed . . . you escaped your punishment . . . a cowardly dog unable to face his nemesis . . ."_

"Lenan, stab it now!" Harry bellowed. Lenan's grip on the sword faltered and the locket reacted. Lenan stumbled back as smoke erupted from the eyes, filling the space between him and the stone the Horcrux rested on. Harry snatched his fingers from the locket as the metal burned white hot. Hermione took several steps back, horrified as the girl from the photos emerged from the fog. Her throat had been torn out and blood, glistening in the strange light the fog seemed to emit, soaked down the front of her. Her eyes were blank white; pupiless. Her face was gaunt and ashen. Lenan let out a little sob, falling to his knees before her.

_ "Why do you get to live on, unpunished and unscathed? You will never amount to anything. You are a worthless coward. You're the one that should be dead."_

"I'm sorry!" Lenan yelled out, sobbing. She smiled cruelly.

_ "I see why your mother abandoned you now. You're just like your father. You make me sick, filthy beast. You're a monster. Ugly, deformed...," _she bent forward a little, grinning with sharpened teeth, _"heartless." _She dragged out the last word, lingering on the 's' on the end_._ Lenan's face filled with anguish and he stood shakily.

"Do it, Lenan!" Harry yelled. Lenan looked toward him, and a chill moved through Harry as if Dementors had appeared. The look of loss and pain in Lenan's eyes was all consuming.

_ "You sometimes wonder why the Dementors never came for you in the cell. Never came to kiss you, like I did. You know the answer... you have no soul to take."_ A terrible scream rang out as Lenan ran through her, plunging the sword into the horcrux and into the rock beneath it. Harry, knocked backward by the end of the spell, stood quickly and looked to Lenan. His hands were still on the sword hilt and his head hung between his arms. Slowly, Harry approached him. His shoulders rose and fell with his ragged breathing. Hermione stood a few yards away, still staring where the girl had been; she looked like she was going to be sick. Harry spoke softly, the mans past seemed suddenly clear with the words the dead girl had spoken.

"How old were you?"

"Five..." His voice cracked a bit. He kept his face down-turned. "I tried to keep it under control for as long as I can remember...but that one day... she came in, trying to help... I don't remember it... I woke up the next morning beside her."

"You were in Azkaban. "

"I turned myself in." Harry placed a hand lightly over Lenan's white knuckled grip on the sword hilt and the man looked up suddenly, his eyes red and puffy once more. He yanked up sharply, freeing the sword from the stone and relinquishing it to Harry. "I'm sorry... I understand if yeh still don't trust me. I come with baggage, and," he reached up, fingering a sharp canine tooth, "a significant threat."

"Hermione and I are friends with another werewolf." He flinched a little at the word. "He was one of our professors at Hogwarts. He was a close friend of my Dad's." Harry picked up the broken Horcrux, still warm to the touch and smoking slightly. Hermione approached cautiously, staring at Lenan. She hadn't noticed the teeth before, nor the barely there point of the ear. The honey yellow eyes made sense now. Those eyes moved to her, full of pain.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not some unholy beast, hell-bent on killing anything within ten feet." His voice softened. ". . . She was an accident."

"Perhaps we should head back to the tent. Someone might have heard the scream." Harry spoke carefully, wanting to break the tension between his friend and the newcomer. Lenan hesitated, then moved along with Harry's encouragement. Hermione followed, her wand forgotten in her pocket.

/. /. / POST SCRIPT AUTHOR'S NOTE:

P.S.A.N. : I know this chapter is very short compared to the first one, but as in my other stories, I like to break up the chapters where it feels appropriate. The next one takes place back in the tent, so instead of going straight there, we end in the woods for now.


	3. A Shower and a Newspaper

Of course, I do not own anything in this story except for Michael 'Lenan' Shanahan and Hailey. Even after rereading the book, I'm not exactly sure how long Hermione and Harry were looking for the horcruxes without Ron, and I'm certainly not sure how long a period it was between Ron's return and the battle of Hogwarts. So, I'm going to wing it, probably inadvertently extending it to build on Michael's character.

/. /. / CHAPTER 3: Cleans Up Well

/. /. / NINETEEN YEARS AND FOUR MONTHS AGO; FOREST OF DEAN

The walk back to the tent was silent, each of the three taking in and contemplating what had just happened. When finally inside, Harry turned to Lenan. "We have a small shower. It's a bit cramped, and the water is barely warm but your welcome to it."

"Yes, please. It's a bit hard to wash up when all the water is frozen." Lenan pulled some clothes from his bag and Harry led him to the small bathroom area, pulling the curtain across to give him privacy. They heard the water start up.

"Harry -"

"Everyone deserves a chance, Hermione. You saw him out there -"

"- I feel awful." She finished feebly. Harry looked at her, surprised. He'd expected some hushed rant about what he was and how dangerous he could be. "He really loved her. I can't imagine what that must have been like."

"He wants to fight back, I can tell. We can use him on our side Hermione. You have to admit, it's been harder with just the two of us."

"I know... we just barely made it in Godric's Hollow. It was easier when there were three night watch shifts as well." The two became quiet and Harry took the Horcrux from his pocket examining it once more as Hermione moved to the tent door. After about fifteen minutes, the water shut off. Hermione glanced up at the new guest as he emerged from behind the curtain. Harry caught his attention with a question of some kind, so she was free to examine his features without him noticing. With the layer of dirt scrubbed away, he was paler than she would have guessed. He was remarkably handsome, with noble features; a lofty brow, strong jaw line, intelligent eyes, though his face was a bit gaunt, his cheeks sunken in. He'd shaven the beard growth from his chin and jaw, not cutting himself once. A clean, but equally worn out black t-shirt and jeans made up his clothes. The tattoo emerged from the right sleeve; delicate ivy leaves on a thin vine of black ink, spiraling down around his arm, ending in a curl on the back of his right hand. It was beautiful, but he covered it with the blue sweater Harry handed him, magically enlarged to fit his tall, lanky frame. As the two spoke, Lenan finger combed his dark hair back out of his face, his hands moving quickly behind his head. He pulled the end of the braid over his shoulder to finish it, taking a strip of black fabric from his pocket and tying it around the end. The French braid was traditionally a feminine hairstyle, yet it suited him well. His hair was blond in the photos, but now it was dark auburn, several inches past his shoulders. She couldn't tell if it was dyed now, or if it had been in the photos. She found it hard to believe that his hair would naturally take such a drastic color change. There was something familiar about him, like she'd seen him somewhere before. He looked up, catching her eyes on him. There was disdain in his gaze that sent both guilt and fear through her. She looked away, her face feeling hot.

Harry and Lenan sat down, Hermione feeling too embarrassed to join them.

"So, another one down. What's the plan to get the rest? Do yeh know where they are and how to get them?"

"We are trying to figure that out. Now that we've got the sword, we at least have a way to destroy them when we get them." Harry looked down for a moment. "Lenan... how long have you been out here on your own?"

"Since the mass breakout of Azkaban three years ago." He shot Hermione a look. "Yes, I escaped with the likes of Bellatrix Lestrange and the other Death Eaters. Breakin' out with them was the only way I could seek revenge on what had been done. I turned myself in when I was sixteen because I was horrified at what I'd done. In Azkaban, I stopped eatin', stopped sleepin', stopped carin' all together. I felt like I had no reason to live being what I was and what I had done. Then I started thinkin' about why it all happened to begin with. I started gettin' angry. I started gettin' stronger and I took advantage of what I was. Embraced it to a point in my rage, and for it, I shot up in height by over a foot. When I escaped with the others, I did it to find and kill Fenrir Greyback."

"A lycanthrope who acquired the curse through an infectious bite or scratch can be made human once again by slaying the lycanthrope who bestowed the infection." He grinned at Hermione's words, pointing at her.

"Exactly! Killin' Fenrir will kill the beast in me, bringin' Hailey's murder to justice if yeh will. It's the only hope I've got, and I'll stop at nothin' to kill him." Harry asked him something else and the two continued talking. Hermione's mind wandered to his escape three years ago. She moved to her bag, ruffling through it and pulling out an old Daily Prophet. On the front page were the ten dangerous Death Eaters that had broken out in the January of their fifth year at Hogwarts. Her eyes move to the face on the bottom corner. While the other photos were jeering and glaring out of their photos, this one barely moved. His features were slack, emotionless as he stared blankly at the camera, his dark blonde hair hanging tangled about his gaunt, pale face. His eyes were empty, haunted.

"Michael Shanahan." Hermione read the name out loud and heard Harry trail off as Lenan's chair pushed back from the table. She moved to stand up, but she felt a hand on her back as he crouched down beside her. She glanced to his profile. He was staring down at his barely blinking photo, that deep set sadness filling his features once more.

"I didn't realize they'd actually listed me as a Death Eater . . . one of the ten most dangerous. I guess I just thought I could get away unnoticed because of the magnitude of their crimes. Or maybe they'd just post my picture as a convict. I wasn't thinkin they'd actually group me into His followers." He leaned in closer to the photo, his hand leaving her back to instead brace him on the floor. "God. I look like I have no soul." His free hand cupped his mouth, running down to his jawline. "I look so much like my father . . ."

"It says your name is Michael Shanahan." Hermione spoke softly. Her brain was telling her to be leery and untrusting. He was listed as a Death Eater, and he'd lied about his name. But there was such a sorrow in his actions and words, she didn't know what to think.

"That was my given name." His mouth twitched in a small smile and he glanced at her. "Hailey called me Micah. When I broke out, I was afraid someone would recognize me, so I tried to alter myself by changin' the color of my hair and I started goin' by Lenan Haim Hachas, an anagram of my name." He looked back to Harry. "I didn't mean to lie to yeh. Lenan has become a necessary habit when in the company of anyone. To be honest, I don't even really think about the name Michael anymore."

"Being that you're with us now, do you mind if we refer to you as Michael? There's no need to hide anymore. With all hopes, the war will be over soon, you'll find your revenge, and you can be free."

Michael smiled at Harry, revealing the sharp canines. "I'd like that. A small return to normalcy, when life was nicer." He scratched his head, looking sheepish. "I'm only 22, not 26 and I'm from Belfast, not Dublin. It was all an automatic response. I'm sorry for all the dishonesty, just trying to survive out there."

"I understand." Harry looked over at Hermione. "We both understand. Just be open from now on. It will make things easier." Michael nodded, looking relieved to have someone to trust. "Well, it is quite late, and a lot has happened in a short amount of time. Perhaps we should try to get some rest so we can leave early in the morning." There was a weariness in Harry's eyes; exhaustion from the rapid events of the night.

"I'll take the watch, Harry. I've already slept."

"Are you sure?" Harry questioned.

"Yes. You've been through enough tonight with the ice and all, and Michael," he smiled at the mention of his name, "endured a lot with the horcrux."

"If you start to feel tired, wake me." Harry stood, moving toward the bunks.

"Of course." Hermione moved toward the opening of the tent, intent on watching the surroundings, as well as Harry and Michael. A hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"Thank you, Hermione." She turned to find him holding out his wand. He smiled softly, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up, partly shadowing his face.

"How did you-"

"Harry gave it back to me when I got out of the shower, but I know yeh still don't trust me. I want to earn your faith in me, so please, take it with yeh outside as a symbol that I mean no harm to yeh, or Harry."

"That's not neces-" Her face felt warm as he took her hand, laying his wand in her palm before cupping her hand in his, curling her fingers around it.

"Please, Hermione. I can't stand the thought of being untrustworthy in anyone's eyes." He let go and moved to the top bunk; Harry already occupied the bottom. Hermione exited the tent and sat down on the ground, looking at his wand. Like his face, his wand too was familiar in some strange way. It was an odd wand, square in shape and long. It had no distinguished handle, much like her own wand. She glanced inside the tent to see both of them, still, in the bunks. Sleep had claimed them quickly. Trading his wand for her own in her pocket, she looked out into the darkness, her mind moving to what they would do tomorrow; the three of them.

/. /. / /. /. / POST SCRIPT AUTHOR'S NOTE:

P.S.A.N. : Let's see if you guys can put the clues together ^_^


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